there's a ghost at my windownhe waits til' the night to come innand he stands by my bed and he breathes down my neckntil the morningnni see shadows of vultures aroundni'm standing six feet above the groundnthat's twelve feet from where i aim to be foundnin the morningnni've written your name with mine a thousand timesnthey were lost in the firennthere's a man near the bellsnhe's anxiousnnow it's not long 'til they tell of anothernhe's laughing under his breathnfor his hands in unjustified death are stainednlike yoursnand mine.nnare you alright?nor does the ghost keep you up at night?n